Flying 'Solo' - Drabbles inspired by the film
by brodie-wan
Summary: This my Solo drabble and ficlet thread. I enjoyed the film a lot and look forward to exploring the world more. Spoilers ahead for Solo! A Star Wars Story. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I greatly enjoyed the film Solo and look forward to future installments. This thread is to house my drabbles and ficlets inspired by the film. There are SPOILERS for the film SOLO herein. You are warned!_

 **It's a SPOILER!**

 **These aren't the SPOILERS you're looking for!**

 **Funny, I don't recall ever owning a SPOILER!**

 **Aw, but I wanted to go to Toche Station and pick up some SPOILERS!**

 **I find your lack of SPOILERS disturbing!**

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 **Beckett**

Tobias Beckett was a clever man, and meticulous, but careful was not a word many used to describe him. He could teach you the game, show you the ropes, and even give you enough rope to...well...you know how it goes. He did tell you not to trust anyone. Didn't anyone include _him_? He was the boss after all. He had survived in the game for a long time. But, back to careful. He could see plenty of moves ahead, adjust his plans to account for unexpected variables. He could even walk away with two cases of coaxium hyperfuel. But, he didn't count on _your_ cleverness. _Your_ resilience. _Your_ adaptability. He certainly didn't count on you escaping Drayden's yacht alive. It turned out that the one with too much rope was him, as evidenced by the smoking hole in his chest.

 **Han**

Han's separation from Qi'ra at the Imperial checkpoint on Corellia had had almost taken the fight right out him. As he hid himself in other being's clothes and tried to stay out of sight of searching stormtroopers, he fought the desperation of losing his love. He was nothing if not resilient and determined; a boy whom had survived on his wits and witticisms for years under the watchful eyes of Lady Proxima. Would this separation, this amputation, be the thing that derailed his dreams? No. A sudden resolve emboldened him and he stood and searched the way station for immediate exit opportunities. He his eyes landed on a recruiting station for the Imperial Navy. Better a goon than a goner, he thought. He would become the best pilot in the Empire and he would come back for her.

 **Chewbacca**

I have been a prisoner of Empire for years. I have been driven with the lash and beaten with the club all in the name of progress. That progress being the furthering of the Emperor's domain. Mining spice here, breaking rocks there; even suffering the humiliation of performing for officers and their friends. I was never stupid enough to resist enough for them to kill me. I valued my life too much and didn't want to lose the opportunity for future escape. That was before Mimban. It was bad enough that the planet was a humid mud hole pockmarked from Imperial bombardments, but Chewbacca hand danced his last _Vermi Dogo_ for the mudtroopers. He had raged out, knocked a few grunts around, and, unfortunately, a couple of officers. That had landed him in this hole, chained to a pylon, staring at human male who appears scared witless. He ended up being smarter than he looked.

 **Qi'ra**

Once Beckett left with the Coaxium, she knew Drayden would kill Han, or both of them. The betrayal had caused his scars to flush and his eyes to rage with red rimmed fury. The doors closed and the hells broke open. The melee was intense, with Qi'ra and her boss locked in a blade battle to the death. Han, try as he might, was unable to get a clear shot to end it any sooner. In the back of her mind, she knew this was another battle for freedom, another fight for the power to rule her own destiny. However, that destiny did not lie with Han, the way it once had. Like her boss had said, she had _done things_ ; thing not spoken of but things that no longer enabled childish dreams of love and adventure. However, there was still a small compartment in her soiled heart, where she kept her love for Han. Han Solo. She wanted him to live. She even wanted him to succeed. But it would not be with her. He would not understand her choice. He would not condone it. After everything he had seen and done, he still harbored foolish notions of their life together. Their _love_ for each other. As the yacht flew over the ridge where she could see that Han had gotten the better of Beckett, she exhaled and blew him a kiss goodbye.

 **Lando**

Lando Calrissian was not arrogant enough to realize when he had been bested. He has also not foolish enough see grace given him by a man, whom by all rights, could have drawn his blaster and ended his life if that had been his pleasure. _The Millennium Falcon_ , as fine a ship as she was, was not worth his life.

When the sabaac game had ended, and the party dismissed, and ownership had been exchanged, Lando broached the subject.

"Why didn't you kill me, Han?" Lando asked, as he casually drew on a cig stick. "You had every right."

Han took a pull from the flask he had lifted from Beckett's body and smiled magnanimously. "Because I like you Lando. You're my friend. Even if you are a lying, cheating, thieving, and shamelessly rakish, son of a bitch."

Lando grinned, showing his full set of perfect pearly whites. "Compliments will get you everywhere, Buddy. But, truthfully, I am in your debt for not only not shooting me dead, but also for not exposing me."

"Don't worry about it, Lando," Han continued. "We've both been dealt bad hands and, in light of certain obvious absences, I'm thankful you're here."

"I can drink to that," Lando responded, genuinely, and touched his glass to Han's flask.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Solo Spoilers! This is one way that I see the SOLO endgame playing out. It is brief and short on larger details, but I think the message is clear. Enjoy!_

 **Pulling the Trigger**

My blaster, the one Beckett gave me, quivers in my outstretched hand.

 _I never thought it would come to this. I could not conceive that even three years of separation, three years in the hells for each of us could sever our connection so fully. Hadn't we loved in the pit of despair. Hadn't we stolen and beaten our way to the possibility of freedom? Had we not promised ourselves to each other against every challenge?_

I can feel the ooze of sweat in my palm and on my brow.

 _What could she have done that she thinks I would not forgive. Drayden hammered...HAMMERED that she had done things. What had she done? Had killed men, even savagely? Had she become a flesh slave to Voss, but not just to him, but to whom ever he directed her? Was it both? Was it more? Had she come to like it more than she hated it? He could not believe it. But he could still forgive._

My knees want to give way, to pull me to the floor.

 _What happened when she was caught by the Imperials? Had Proxima's agents stepped forward to claim her? If that were true then, he knew what she had suffered. The Lady's scourge deadly, a whipping that left her victim on the verge of death. Her utter cruelty lay in the medical attention supplied to revive the pour soul. And that was just it. The beating was meant to eradicate the soul, to create a machine. But even machine's break down or outlive their usefulness. Or, in certain cases, machines become valuable enough to sell._

It is my will alone that keeps me on my feet. If I falter, I am a dead man.

 _She had been sold. Out of one festering hole into another, albeit much more finely furnished. But the cost of her new station...The loss of her freedom, such as it was. The loss of her will, to live as more than a puppet on a string. The loss of the ability to love and, most tragically, to be loved. I had not seen that she was dead when met, again, on Voss' yacht. I was too excited and she faked it so well. So well. Even with everything I had been through, I was still a lovesick Nexu pup in her presence. So much has happened since then._

A loud crash pulls her attention to the door and her blaster with it. My opening is here. But, I freeze. There is rustling outside the door. My blaster is still pointed at her, buts hers is pointed at the sound. This time a thunderous collision with the door almost breaks it in. She fires. I do not. She is spooked. The machine is cornered. The door bursts open and Lando stands tall holding an E-15 blaster rifle.

She fires at Lando.

I fire on _her_.

Lando is hit, but not mortally.

Qi'ra staggers back a step and crumples into the corner apex of the small office. The same smoking hole rises from her chest as the one I had put into Beckett. I rush to her as I did for Beckett. I hate tears. They are a fools response. I had been a fool. I _am_ a fool. But never again. Wetness fills my eyes despite my will.

She is now propped in the corner, her legs splayed in front of her and her arms lifeless at her sides. Her beautiful eyes lock on me and for a moment, I think she is alive again.

"He...won't stop," she croaks, blood masking her lips. "You can't...run...forever."

 _Idiot! She died in Proxima's lair!_

"Let him come," I say, my false bravado fooling no one.

Her eyelids flutter and close for the final time.

I fall to my knees. Lando is there, a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Qi'ra, I...love you."

 _I never thought it would come to this. That she would force my hand. That she would choose power, wealth, and complete and utter misery over me. That she would put me, the man who loves her, has never stopped loving her, in a position to put her down. Maybe that was her kriffed up intent all along. She wanted it to be me. You got your wish, Sister. Perhaps, I sound selfish. Good. Because that is how it will be from now on. I can't afford the luxury of caring for anyone but myself. Love is a liability. It is a mistake I will never make again._


End file.
